


K.A.T.E.

by thecat_13145



Category: Foyle's War
Genre: Self-Sacrifice, Spying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-05
Updated: 2014-10-05
Packaged: 2018-02-20 00:39:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2408783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecat_13145/pseuds/thecat_13145
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The letter to his father is easy. The letter to Sam though...</p>
            </blockquote>





	K.A.T.E.

He’d being sitting, staring at a blank piece of paper for nearly an hour.

The letter to his father was simple enough. He’d all but written the same letter that had being stuffed in his locker at various bases, to be sent on in the event he didn't come back. But Sam…

He closed his eyes for a moment and conjured up an image of her in his eyes. Strange how he nearly always saw her in uniform, all that golden hair tucked up under that hideous green cap. Always smiling, always cheerful. Couldn’t ever remember seeing her looking down.

Even when he’d deserted and was sobbing against her chest, he can’t remember her looking properly upset.

Didn’t like to think about it, actually.

Another image rose unbidden before his brain.

Aunty Helen, Mrs Helen McNives, his mother’s oldest friend, his godmother. A kind woman, always with a smile or a toffee for a small boy, but with…sad eyes. Even now as an adult, he had no better word for it. The pain, the sorrow that was always lurking there.

She never married. Her young man, Andrew Archer, who he’d being named for, had being killed at Ypres. He remembers knowing that, but can’t actually remember anyone telling him.

He just remembered his mother’s tired smile as she collected him from Aunty Helen’s house, normally covered in paint or mud.

“Oh Helen, you should have married.”

Aunty Helen had smiled, very sadly. “Well, could claim I never met the right chap, but we both know that would be a lie.”

“Oh Helen.” She had waved away his mother’s comforting hands and told Andrew. “You can come again any time.”

Except he hadn’t.

Aunty Helen had come down with the flu that winter.

“She didn’t even try to fight it.” His mother had sobbed into his father’s chest. “She just wanted to be with him…”

As hard as the thought of Sam sad was, the thought of her giving up, not fighting was a thousand times worse.

He had no illusions about the risk involved.

Colonel Phillips had being quite clear about them.

“To be perfectly honest, son.” He’s said, staring at Andrew sitting opposite him. “You’d have a better chance of coming through this alive if you stuck to flying night ops.” He’d shrugged. “But we need the best and according to everyone I’ve spoken to, that’s you.  
“You fly; you pick up or drop off packages,”

“Spies.” Andrew had interjected. Colonel Phillips frowned.

“If you prefer. You do not ask them where they’ve being or what they’ve doing. You’re just the chauffeur. But,” He paused. “I’ll be perfectly truthful with you. If you’re shot down, Captured, I don’t know whether the Geneva Conventions would apply to you.”

He could have said no, could have walked away. It had being emphasised to him time and time again, they weren’t looking for conscripts. Every man and woman working on this operation was a volunteer. That had to include the pilots.

Instead he’d just smiled. “I see. Well, have to make sure I don’t get captured then, what?”

And watched Phillip’s face break into a similar smile.

At the time it had seemed so simple, so straightforward, but now with thoughts of Sam on his mind…

He couldn’t not hurt her, but perhaps he could control the pain.

Quickly, before he changed his mind, he scribbled a few words down on the paper and shoved into an envelope.

“All done?” Phillips was standing in the doorway. 

“Almost sir.” He paused, uncertain. “Could you…is it possible for this to go out before the first op? The address is on the envelope and postage is paid.”

He hadn’t bothered to seal the letter, knowing full well it would be read.

What he didn’t expect was for the Colonel to calmly unfold the letter and read it right in front of him.

“Using the op’s codename in a letter, Foyle?”

He managed not to flush “It’s a common enough girl’s name. Anyway, I’d rather not lie to her anyone that strictly necessary.”

The Colonel looked at him with sympathetic eyes. “You’re sure this is what you want to do?”

No, but it was what he had to do.

“Yes sir.”

“Alright.” He watched as the letter was folded up again and the envelope gummed down. “Should be in time for the five o’clock post.”

“Thank you sir.”

He looked at himself in the shaving mirror as the Colonel left, trying desperately to see the sort of man who’d do that. Who’d tell his girl that he’d met someone else by letter. Even if it was lie, it was still a cowardly way to act.

He wondered what his father would make of it. If Sam would tell him.

Well there was nothing more to be done.

He lay back on the thin mattress and waited almost desperately for sleep to come.

**Author's Note:**

> Because I never like them breaking up, particularly by letter, so I wanted something more romantic.


End file.
